


Matrix Chronicles: Deep Breath to Inhale

by Aewnaur



Category: Transformers (Bay Movies)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-05-27
Updated: 2012-05-27
Packaged: 2017-11-06 02:34:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 16,012
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/413784
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aewnaur/pseuds/Aewnaur
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Everything changes. For some it's as easy as breathing, for others... well, there's a little more death involved. Or, what really happened and what it lead to.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Matrix Chronicles: Deep Breath to Inhale

Deep Breath to Inhale  
Summary: 2009 Rise of the Fallen What did Sam really experience during the six minutes Sam was dead. The Past is Prologue.  
   
All the Woulda-Coulda-Shouldas   
Layin' in the Sun   
Talkin' 'Bout the Things   
They Woulda-Coulda-Shoulda Done...   
But All Those Woulda-Coulda-Shouldas   
All Ran Away and Hid   
From One Little Did.   
\- Shel Silverstein  
   
Chapter One  
Listen to the mustn'ts, child.   
Listen to the don'ts.   
Listen to the shouldn'ts,   
the impossibles, the won'ts.   
Listen to the never haves,   
then listen close to me...   
Anything can happen, child.   
Anything can be.   
\- Shel Silverstein  
   
   
Sam's body twisted in midair, burning pain seared his nerves, beyond anything that a human was meant to process. When he hit the ground with a exhale that never quite became the gasp it could have been. It was six minutes before the small inhale that should have been a huge rasping of breath. His body should have needed a quick inflow of air to sooth painfully under oxiginated tissue. Should have, could have, would have, might have been, if not for that six minutes.  
*&*   
   
"Where am I? Am I dead?" Sam looked around at the fog covered mountains through the eerie pastel light. Hadn't he just been doing something important? Something he needed to get back to, why couldn't he remember?    
   
'Samuel James Witwicky.' A voice on the wind called to him.  
   
"Hello, who's there? Where am I? I really think I need to get back. It's just that I think I was doing something important. I don't, I don't think I have time stand around chit-chatting. I mean not that I remember what I was doing, but..." One of the mountains moved. Holy Shit!   
   
That wasn't a mountain. His heartbeat tripled as memory flashed to Optimus Prime, cold metal unmoving; lifeless. Optimus!   
   
"Please, I have to get back!" He yelled up to the huge robot. "I really really don't have time for this. I have to get back to Optimus. I have to... have to bring him back. You don't understand! Optimus needs this... I have to try!"  
   
"The Matrix of Leadership. Yes, I know. Optimus Prime will wait. Here we have plenty of time. Nothing but time, yes." The towering metal being reminded Sam of the Droid of Death that had splashed Sam's face all over the world's media.   
   
"Where are we? Am I dead?" It just can't end this way, Sam thought, he couldn't be dead. Not yet, there was still so much he had to do. Go to college and work with the Autobot's. Earn back Bumblebee's trust, tell Mikeala that he... that he... yeah that.  
   
"Dead, no. But neither are you living. Here, inside this place outside of time and space in the living Matrix, you simply are."  
   
"Oh, okay. 'Cause you know that explain's so much. Thanks for that. So can I go now? People to save, 'Con's to kill," Sam just couldn't help himself sometimes, his mouth fell open and brain-mouth filter shut off. He bit his toungue in mortified shock at his own inability to just shut the hell up, or at least use his brain before he spoke.  
   
"So impatient."   
   
Sam was shocked at the chuckle of amusement in that voice. Blinking up in awe as the figure knelt down to look him in the eye, Sam couldn't help but notice that this mech's optics were bright green. He never knew optics could be anything besides blue or red, let alone a shade so vividly green and piercing, as if they could see into his very soul.  
   
"Samuel, walk with me."  
   
Sam was walking before fully processing the not-request. He couldn't imagine anything but obedience to that powerful, commanding voice. As he stepped forward, though, everything shifted. Not only the scene around, him but the apparent size and shape of the mech he was following. Either he was shrinking or Sam was growing. Before, Sam was looking up from knee height but now found himself on level with this mech's waist. Gone was the pastel sky and foggy mountains, and in their place, was a thriving metal metropolis.  
   
"Are we... Is this... Cybertron?" Sam craned his neck to look at everything at once, while running to keep up.  
   
"Yes and no. It is Cybertron as it once was. No one alive in your time today, not even the oldest of us, remembers it this way. But we shall go back even further, you and I."   
   
Even as the mech spoke and Sam followed, everything changed again. Now, Sam was the same size as the mech and matched him step for step. "Further?"  
   
"Yes, Samuel. To the beginning."  
   
Suddenly, Sam was standing on shockingly barren rock. As far as the eye could see there was no sign of habitation, gone was the glittering spires they had just walked passed. No light was visible, save for the small white sun so far away it warmed nothing and millions of stars in the brilliant void of space.   
   
"The beginning of what exactly?" His voice was small in the vast nothingness.   
   
"Everything. Watch closely and learn, Samuel."  
*&*  
   
As Sam watched, a glinting object hurdled through the vastness of space, growing ever larger the closer it came. It struck the surface, creating a huge impact crater. Sam jumped closer to the mech and felt no shame when he latched onto the hard metallic form.   
   
"We cannot be injured here, Samuel. As we are not actually here, merely observers of a history, long forgotten."  
   
"Yeah, yeah, I knew that," Sam cleared his throat but didn't release his grip.   
   
As the energy and dust from the impact began to settle, Sam realized what he was witnessing.   
   
"Is that the All Spark? So when you said the beginning of everything, you meant, seriously, like, everything. Holy Shit!" Sam finally stepped away from the mech, mouth dropping open in shock. "I'm watching the All Spark's first landing on Cybertron..."  
   
"Yes. And it's first creation of life. Watch, Samuel."  
   
Time didn't seem to matter as they watched the beautiful electric colors dance over the planet. Circuits of electricity alternated flowing colors that Sam had never even dreamed of, and he didn't think actually existed on Earth. He got lost in the rainbow-like ebb and flow, until it suddenly stopped and coalesced down to one long, direct circuit spinning over and over, bright green and blue chasing red and white.   
   
It didn't take Sam long to understand the pattern. A large mech-shaped laser of light was outlined on the side of one giant crag on the far side of the crater. Bright blue streams of light broke through the surface and suddenly a mech stepped from the metal mountain. The mech, moving stiffly and looking more like a giant golem from old Earth legends than any protoform Sam had ever seen, bent down and picked up what he now recognized as the All Spark cube.   
   
As soon as the newly formed mech picked up the cube, a spark of blue energy shot out of it and hit the mech in the chest. The ground shook again as the first Cybertronian life form shed the extra bits of metal and rock detritus.   
   
Primus.  
   
Sam knew, after all of his talks with Bumblebee and Optimus, that Primus was the first mech ever created. And Sam had just seen him formed. He looked at the size and shape of the mech in the crater below them. He narrowed his eyes, looking back and forth from his companion to the scene below. Surely he hadn't been... surely he was wrong. He hadn't actually been clinging to and smartmouthing The Primus. Oh, God must really love him to look after him so well. What was the saying again? Children and fools. Yeah, that described him so freakin' well. He was such an idiot. Who the hell else would meet him in the afterlife and take him on a scenic tour of the galaxy?  
   
"So, ah, Primus. Why exactly did you want me to see this? Wouldn't Optimus be much more, I don't know. Shouldn't he be here? I mean, I'm just a kid. A normal human kid, this is like, the greatest story ever told, right. So why, I mean not that I'm not honored and everything..."  
   
"Samuel. There is more to see. More to know. Watch."  
   
Sam turned back to watch and lost track of time.   
   
Primus walked the surface of the planet, carrying in his servo the life giving cube. There really was nothing to see and it didn't seem like the new mech knew how to do much of anything. It was like watching a young child grow up, discovering the world around him. He found nourishment in the form of glowing rivers of energon. Then he wandered some more.   
   
The All Spark sent up bright flashes of energy, high into the air, forming a light electric haze all around them, that would later grow to become the static charged atmosphere. Sam watched as the first of the rains fell and Primus took shelter from the slightly acidic water in a large natural formed cave.   
   
But as time passed, Primus seemed to grow despondent, wandering less and less from his makeshift shelter. Sam thought the mech looked lonely, so terribly lonely being the only being on the entirety of the planet. Sam watched as Primus finally set the cube down, turned and walked away, leaving the cube on the ground.  
   
He didn't stay gone long, it didn't seem like he could. Day after day, the mech came back and stared for hours at the cube. Finally, when Sam thought that even though he couldn't really feel the passage of time, the sameness of it all might drive even him insane, Primus finally poked the cube with one long metallic finger and chirupped at it.   
   
Primus' first word. Sam wondered what it was.  
   
More chirping and clicking as the days bled together again. Primus built a shelter, free standing and shaped with his own servos. Sam watched as the huge mech moved from the cave and into his new dwelling. Still so very much alone but not willing to just give up anymore. Something in him had changed with the distance from the All Spark. Some independent will of his own to not just give up.  
   
After another incomprehensible amount of time had flowed by and there were several building arranged in a semi-circle around the cube, Primus once again sat and stared at the All Spark, talking in that same clicking, whine, and hic-upping chirps. Sam gasped as Primus picked up the cube and walked out of the small encampment back to the same mountain pass where he had been created. The crater the All Spark had landed in was now filled with energon laced water, but the area was unmistakable as the birthplace of something extraordinary.  
   
The Primus that had been keeping Sam company all this time, just standing in the background with Sam, watching, had to hold Sam back as the young Primus then threw the gleaming metal cube at the solid rock-metal face of the mountain. Sparks flew and the ground beneath them trembled. The cube struck the mountain with a great metalic clang and grinding noise that threatened to burst Sam's ears and stop his heart. But he couldn't back away and he couldn't tear his eyes from the site of another mech shape taking form in the side of the mountain.  
   
Sam spoke his first words to his Primus, in a very long time. "Who is that?"  
   
"That is Unicron. My brother. My Doom and perhaps the doom of all." Primus sounded so very sad and yet also, longing for that which was past. This must be how Optimus felt about Megatron. Funny how the two stories paralleled.   
   
"Was he the first Decepticon?"  
   
"Oh no. Nothing quite so simple as all that. You see, Samuel, in the universe all things must have balance. As above, so below. You have heard of this, yes? Your planet's culture has many beliefs based on this concept. Yin and Yang. Black and White. Good and Evil. Order and Chaos. And so it is here. At the point that I insisted on the Spark providing me with company, however, I was young and did not understand that concept. The All Spark had granted me balance within myself. At this point in time, Cybertron had perfect order. It wasn't until Unicron's creation that chaos was introduced. Have you ever noticed that," Primus waved his servo and a perfect yin-yang hung in the air, "directly between the two is a thin line."   
   
"If it wasn't for this line, the two would mingle and possibly reintegrate back into the perfect balance. However, this thin line keeps the two halves separated. Many believe it is this line that makes life worth living. This line is chaos. It is the Unknown. The uncertainty factor that say's 'Will I survive? Logic dictates that I have a fifty-fifty chance of surviving this. Which way will it fall?' If not for this small bit of chaos, there would be no chance or change, as you would be forever helplessly deadlocked. Or conversely, if not for this line, there would be certainty in either direction."   
   
"The creation of Unicron introduced this uncertainty and from it, the future flowed. If not for the All Spark giving in to my loneliness, there would never have been another Cybertronian lifeform ever created. So I may have been the first, but I am now and never was any more important than any other mech. If we had never asked for the third, Unicron and I, there would never have been a fourth. If there was never a father, there could never be a son. How then could the son be more important that the father?"  
   
"All life is important," Sam agreed.  
   
"Spoken like a Prime." Primus' voice was filled with humor and pride.  
   
"It's just something I've heard Optimus say," Sam muttered as he blushed, ducking his head in embarrassment.  
   
"Something that you were taught. Something that you learned. No one, not even a Prime is above learning. Not even I sprang from the ground knowing all there was to know. The important thing is that you learn. You, Samuel Witwicky, are no less important than your Autobot friends. Your life is no more or less important that the life of Optimus Prime, himself."   
   
Primus turned and walked away from the scene of himself and his dark brother meeting, learning and living. Sam followed in his wake, silent and humbled.  
   
"Do you understand, Samuel Witwicky? What it is I have brought you here to see?"  
   
"I understand what you wanted to show me. I don't agree with it. I don't think I can. I am not as important as Optimus. He is a great leader. The Autobots need him to lead them. They need him to live. Where I'm from, I'm just another human. There are billions of us and at least half of them could help Optimus more than me." Sam shook his head, denying any importance of his own.  
   
"Very well then," Primus sighed, turning a different direction and continued walking. The scene around them changed back to the empty nothingness before the All Spark landed, while Sam scrambled to follow.  
   
"You'll take me back and let me bring Optimus back to life, right? I mean, the Matrix crumbled when I picked it up but I'm still holding on to the belief that if I can get it to him it will bring him back. Don't tell me it won't," Sam felt his temper flaring. After all of this, to fail now was unacceptable. He would not fail Optimus again. "It has to... it has to work. Optimus has to live. I won't let him give his life for me."  
   
"You would give your life for his?" Primus asked, curiously.  
   
"In a heartbeat," Sam didn't even have to think about this answer. Maybe a few days ago he would have been terrified at the thought of it, but even then, his answer would have been the same.  
   
"You would die for your Prime?" Primus asked again.  
   
"Try me." Sam gritted his teeth, nostrils flared. This might be Primus, but asking the same question over and over with different words like the S-7 agents had, just pissed him the hell off.  
   
"You would die for him, yes. But would you live for him?" Primus turned away, ignoring Sam's stricken expression. The mech continued to walk and Sam followed.  
   
Primus stopped at the crest of a small hill and waved a giant servo creating a metal doorway. Waving again, the door swished gently sideways in it's frame, opening to allow Sam to see beyond it. A large metal city rose into the brilliant, pink tinted sky.   
   
Central City; it looked just as it did in the holograms Bumblebee had shared with Sam while they were talking about the city were Bee had grown up, when he had grown up during the early day's of unrest before the start of the war. One of the great city's of Cybertron. It gleamed silver and bright and so heartbreakingly beautiful he now understood the wistfulness they showed when they spoke of this great city. He knew they had not seen this beautiful city with their own optics in too long.  
   
"Here is where I leave you, Samuel. Until you learn to accept your destiny, you shall live with the people you would be turning your back on. These people, every mech and femme on this planet, will be touched by the war that is just now culminating on your planet. Terra was not made to house such a war."  
   
"Terra?" Sam interrupted.   
   
"Your planet. Terra of the Sol System. In your words, planet Earth."  
   
"Planet Dirt, you mean," Sam laughed despite himself.  
   
"Jetfire had a point," Primus smirked.  
   
Sam turned his eyes back to the large prosperous city visible through Primus' doorway. Knowing what the future held, the terror and pain of war that they would soon be consumed by, made his heart hurt for them. But what could he do? Really, he was just one human boy. If great mechs couldn't do anything to stop or mitigate Megatron, how could he hope to so much as squeak in his general direction. Mission City was such a fluke as to be laughable at best, crying in hysteria at worse. He looked back at Primus, his eyes reflecting the sadness in his soul.   
   
"It isn't that I don't want to help. You have to know that. I just don't understand what I could possibly bring to the equation. I'm just me, Sam Witwicky, a squishy little human from planet Dirt."  
   
Primus nodded, but not even this deterred him from his plan.   
   
"You will live and be one of them. Though you do have freewill and I cannot force you to accept that which is, at the very least, I would have you understand what you turn your back on if you deny your destiny. Be well, Samuel Witwicky." Primus gently pushed Sam through the huge metal doorway, closing it with a resounding bang.  
*&*  
   
Chapter Two  
Doorknob: Read the directions and directly you will be directed in the right direction. - Alice in Wonderland   
   
"Uh, the hell? Primus?" Sam turned, his stomach lurching as he looked behind him as the clanging sound echoed through his head. The door he had just been shoved through was gone. All around him stretched a flat, empty, expanse of metal that he recognized as comparable to an empty field on Earth. As he twisted, he looked down at himself and blinked.   
   
Or the equivalent of blinked, as his optics dilated and shuttered. He was in a protoform mech body. Holy Shit! Darkness overtook him as he suddenly offlined.  
   
When he opened his eyes, he was standing in front of Primus again. The ancient mech was shaking his head and sighing.   
   
"Samuel," Primus looked at Sam in disbelief.  
   
"What the hell!" Sam exclaimed as he stood , throwing his arms in the air. It was weird, awkward, and so very not him, even if there was a small part of his processors in the very back of his mind that was telling him just how freakin’ cool this was. Seriously, that was such a small part of his thoughts that it might as well not even be there. Seriously.  
   
"As I said, you will live as one of them. Did you expect to do that in your organic body? You would never be accepted, never truly be one of them, if you were so very different. This way, they will accept you and you will accept them."  
   
"And there is no talking you out of this plan? I mean it is crazy! You know that, right? I don't mean to be disrespectful here, Mr. Primus sir, ‘cause Optimus might actually kill me if I was, but really this is...," Sam cut himself off before he devolved into meaningless whining. "Okay breathe Sam, just breathe. Whoo-shaa. Deep breathe in," the sound of his vents opening and air blowing out through small fans came through his audio sensors. "Shit, shit, shit, okay don't do that. No deep breaths." He tried to regulate his breaths to small, shallow pants and that was even worse.  
   
"Samuel, stop that, you will off line yourself again and I thought that was impossible. Offlining yourself while you are offline trapped in a place without time and space."  
   
Sam imagined a sound like a needle skipping over an old record, errrt, say wah-huh? He didn't know what exactly what being without time and space was but... "Did you just imply that I'm trapped in the space-time continuum? I'm in the Nexus? Holy Shit! Bumblebee will never believe this." Sam grabbed at what should have been his hair, but encountered the metallic form of his new body’s helm, which was a whole other level of weird. His servos banged against his face plates in a much less effective attempt to calm himself.  
   
"You are correct, he will never believe this because you will not be able to tell him. This is an experience that you will not be able to share, with anyone." Primus leaned in a bit to reiterate his point, Sam pulled back with a gulp.  
   
"Okay, Big Guy, no need to get all worked up about it. Official Secrets Act. I get it. No problem." Sam nodded so hard he thought his new head may pop off.  
   
Primus nodded and kept his expression neutral, the little human was proving to be every bit as exasperating as Optimus had communicated.   
   
"When you online, that is to say when you wake up again, you will still be in your mech body. I suggest you sit down and open your data processors and...," Primus paused searching for a description that the young human would understand. "Read the directions for your new body."  
   
"Right," Sam nodded, "sit down and read the directions. Uh-huh, sure I can do that, it's just that, you know, us human males aren't really known for that you know, it's mostly just... empty the box and put it together and hope there aren't any left over pieces. You know, Mikeala would be a so much better choice than me for all this, right? She's awesome, you know. All mechanically inclined and direction reading and...," Sam shut up as Primus lifted a servo and touched Sam’s forehelm.  
   
Again, Sam found himself waking up in the empty metal field. This time, he did as Primus suggested sitting down as comfortably as possible in this new form. Shuttering his optics, he discovered that his mind was now a complicated and nearly overwhelming place. So many thoughts going on at once, and he was aware of each and every one. He lost himself for a time learning the ins and outs of the processors dedicated to his new form, including a heavy set of firewalls protecting all of his human memories, and what he had seen and learned watching Cybertron’s first breems.  
*&*   
   
Chapter Three  
Be who you are and say what you feel because those who mind don't matter and those who matter don't mind. - Dr. Seuss  
   
When Sam brought himself out of recharge and onlined his optics, he had a full understanding of not only his new mech body, but of the city in front of him. Central City, a great metropolis of Cybertronian civilization, was a city that was constructed over the course of several million vorns. On the surface, peace and prosperity was the way of life for every mech, everywhere you looked. Oh sure, like any sentient species, they had their criminal element and mischief-makers, but over all, the entire planet could not be more different from his home planet, Earth. Civil unrest was unheard of, and the Cybertronians thrived.   
   
It was a shock to learn that Cybertron had very few of the world changing issues, like hunger, poverty, and racism that earth had been dealing with for generations. For the most part, the mecha lived and let live, in a way that Sam was only beginning to understand. Sam had known in his heart that the Autobots weren't unfeeling machines, that they were just as fallible and well, frankly, human as the rest of them. It was not troubling, but to know it intellectually was in fact refreshing. It put them both on equal footing, in a way that Sam had never really put much thought into, but now he had a new perspective. Sam never realized that he had put the Autobots on a such a high moral pedestal. He wondered how much pressure his friends must be under trying to live up to the impossible standards that no mech could ever achieve. Perfection had been Primus’ domain alone, but he had given it up for a true chance at experiencing life.  
   
Sam stood, surveying the city once more before setting his pedes to the road. The city gleaming in front of him, beckoned him forward. It was the only option available to him, and he resented it, just a bit.  
*&*  
   
Sam walked down the wide streets, trying not to look like a country bumpkin as he swiveled his head around, absorbing everything he was seeing. The alleys between the tall building were just like the dark byways he imagined any major city would have as a natural part of the cityscape. There were retrorats scampering across wet rock and metal... pavement. Could you call this pavement? His processors weren’t equipped with the how-to's and where-fore's of city construction.   
   
In fact, he remained programed with only the basic run-processes for a mech just barely out of his youngling stage. The first thing he needed to do was find a job, because he was not looking forward to spending his next recharge cycle in one of these back alleys. Nor did he want to try his hand at living with energon depletion. So, here he was, a stranger in a strange land with nothing and no one to fall back on. Hmm, sounded a lot like college, but at least at Princeton he had a roof over his head and a purpose.   
   
He stumbled along the streets for a few day-cycles before giving into the need to recharge. As he stumbled back into a dark alley, he hoped he could stay out of the way of the shady mechs and busy femmes working at whatever criminal enterprises that kept them in these side streets and away from the ever-watchful enforcers. The mech equivalent of the police, here on Cybertron, was just as scary as they were amazing. Ironhide had surely come from this model of mech. They were all big guns and attitude, which was the only way to describe the enforcers. With a pang in his chest for his missing friends, Sam settled down behind a dumpster set for recycling pick-up and let himself fall into recharge.  
*&*  
   
Sam meandered the city for a decaorn, just taking in the ebb and flow of life around him. The big new that everyone was talking about right now was the murder of Nominus Prime and the promotion of a scientist designated Sentinel as the new Prime. The mecha mourned the death of Nominus, he had been a great leader in the senate and they openly doubted the leadership skills of the unproven Sentinel. It was weird for Sam to hear about Nominus and Sentinel, the Autobot's had never spoken of knowing any other Prime but Optimus. Sam made a note to himself in his processor to keep an audio receiver out for news of this new Prime.  
   
If there was one thing he had learned during his time with Primus watching the Beginnings of Everything, Sam face-palmed at the realization that he even thought of it in capitol letters. What had he been thinking about? Oh yes, the Beginnings of Everything. No, what he had learned while watching it. Yes, well aside from the obvious, he had learned patience. Yes, that is what he had been thinking about earlier.   
   
Primus, why was it so hard to think? Sam shuttered his eyes a few times. Something was wrong with his processors. There was something he could do about that, what was it? If he could only think. Wait, he knew this. It was... it was, shit. Sam sighed and slid down the wall in yet another alley. He was forgetting something. Something you could do with a computer back home to... duh. Way to go Sam.   
   
He ran a quick diagnostic scan on his systems, and found himself to be low on energon. Hmm, the only way to get energon here, that he could think of, was to walk out of the city and hope to find a natural source. While Cybertronian money didn't work the same here as it did back home, you still had to work for your keep which was something Sam just didn't know how to go about doing. Tiredly, he let himself settle into a light recharge.   
   
He startled out of his doze at the sound of what his internals said he shouldn't be hearing on any Cybertronian street, let alone a back alley. The cry of a sparkling in distress sounded again, echoing off the walls around him. If there was one main difference between Earth and Cybertron, it was how they bred and treated their young. Perhaps this was the main reason there was so little crime and no war to speak of in their long history. Cybertronians cherished their young.   
   
Even after all this time, they were still dependent on the All Spark for new life. Femmes could build a protoform, by commission or their own choice, so they weren't completely dependent on the Foundry where new protoforms were built, but even the femme-built bodies had to be taken to the All Spark Chamber to be Sparked. Once a sparkling was Sparked, they were well guarded and cared for by the mecha that commissioned them or by the Foundry, until they were old enough to live on their own. This would not happen until after their second upgrade. First, they were sparklings, then younglings, foundlings and finally fully adult mechs ready to join society.   
   
Sam's body was a newly upgraded foundling, if he was reading the directions correctly of the form he now inhabited. It was the closest equivalent to his real mental age as Primus could judge. The length of time before a mech took on adult responsibilities was significantly later with Cybertronians, each stage of development lasting the human equivalent of just under one hundred years, or a vorn in Cybertronian reckoning.   
   
The sparkling’s cry sounded again, this time, Sam couldn't resist going in search of what such a young child was doing outside the Foundry or at the very least, why it's caretaker was not with it.  
   
He took off at a run and did not stop to ask himself how he knew exactly where he was going, trusting his audio sensors to lead him to the sparkling in such distress. He screeched to a halt at the sight of two large mechs holding down a sparkling. One silver and green mech was attempting to force a data merge with the tiny sparkling, while the other was working loose the small chest plate covering the even smaller spark chamber. Oh hell no! Thinking back on his actions later, Sam was unable to trace the exact data path between seeing and action, but without thought to his own failing energon levels, he jumped.  
   
There was no way he could fight off two mechs at once, but he knew the one thing he could do, run. The black and orange mech, that had been trying to get at the small spark, was taken by surprise at the guttural sound Sam roared, rushing them. Surprise was the only advantage Sam had as the silver and green mech stood to his full height, which was quite a few meters taller than Sam. He couldn't let that deter him, though, so he just threw himself bodily at the two mechs. They were knocked off their pedes, so Sam grabbed the sparkling and ran. He could feel the two mechs on his pedes but didn't look over his shoulder. Years of running from bullies had taught him nothing good ever came from looking back while running.  
   
It didn't take long for Sam to find the main road. The traffic was heavy but thankfully not congested. Foot traffic and motorized vehicles here were much the same as on Earth, and just like on Earth, if a mech was running down the road holding a child being chased by two other mechs, someone was bound to notice and the cops would be called. Sam didn't stop running until the Enforcers stopped him. By then, he was so close to complete energon depletion that he let himself fall into recharge as soon as the Enforcer took the small sparkling from his fingers. Once they pried his fingers open, that is.  
*&*  
   
Chapter Four  
   
If I had a world of my own, everything would be nonsense. Nothing would be what it is, because everything would be what it isn't. And contrary wise, what is, it wouldn't be. And what it wouldn't be, it would. You see? - Alice in Wonderland  
   
Before Sam could open his optics, he felt a cool servo press against his forehelm.   
   
"Take it easy. There's no rush. You are safe here, young one. So brave to rescue a sparkling when you were in such bad condition yourself. Relax and let your body recharge. Your systems nearly in spark failure." The voice hummed, comforting him. He took the advice and let himself fall back into wonderful memories of Mikeala's soft body pressing against his. Thoughts of Bumblebee, and how safe he felt cradled in the backseat of his best friend.   
   
He brought up every memory hidden behind the Primus created and enforced firewalls. Two summers with Lennox and Epps learning the basic in's and out's of military life. The first mini boot camp that nearly broke him, making him curse and thank Lennox in equal measure. The second mini boot camp shortly before he received his acceptance letter from Princeton, when he seriously considered joining the military if they would guarantee he would be assigned to NEST. When the Army refused such guarantees, he refused to join. There was no telling what they would do with him once they took control of his life.   
   
Sector Seven might have been disbanded, but after seeing his beloved friend trussed up and near tortured while not even fighting back, Sam had no faith in the American government, anymore. The heads of such things could have just as easily renamed the operation ‘Sector Eight’ and order them to continue on with the same kind of ‘America first, everyone else can twist in the wind’ work. He would never willingly become a subordinate to anyone that could tolerate those kind of actions towards a sentient being, no matter where they called home. Not even Megatron should have been treated like that. Offline the mech and be done with it, in Sam’s opinion.   
   
He let his mind wander through all the drills and physical exhaustion that seemed to have followed him every step of those summers, and then brought up all of the down time when he had been able to just relax and laugh with the soldiers that, once upon a time, intimidated the hell out of him. Those were some good times. He hated that he wouldn't be able to join them like he wanted, but if he was ever going to be useful to NEST or the Autobots in general, there was no way any government would take him seriously until he was at least a few years older with an education under his belt.   
   
All that considered, he now felt so very old that even if he went back tomorrow, he didn't know if he could just fall back into the college life again. Not that he enjoyed the one day he did get to spend on campus. Including time wandering Cybertron following the newly created Primus for a hundred megavorns and seventeen years, or nine cycles of human experiences all locked behind his firewalls, and the two vorns worth of programing to teach him about his mech body that he was forced to rely on just to continue to function; Sam felt old. Yeah, old probably didn't even begin to cover how he was feeling. Human minds just were not built to deal with being alive that long. Thankfully, when he treated his processors right and remembered to refresh memory banks with the new timeframes the Cybertronians used, his mech body was built for it.   
   
Several hours later, or should he say several joor's later, Sam finally let his recharge fall away completely. He felt better than he had in an orn. He wondered what happened to the sparkling. He sent Primus a quick mental thought, not a prayer, nope not Sam, he wasn't praying to Primus that would just be silly. Right. Anyway, he sent a thought to Primus that the little guy was alright and that he had gotten there in time.  
   
He shuttered open his optics and looked around. He was inside. It was startling to realize that it was the first time he actually was inside a building in vorns. Probably since that airplane museum or, no, he and Mikeala had hidden in a bombed out place back in Egypt. Yeah, so technically, not that long if his body was still laying dead in the sand. He still hoped that when this was all over, he would go back to the land of the living and get back to the business of reviving Optimus. He just needed to keep reminding himself of his past life and the objective. Primus wanted him to do something. Something big, huge, if any of this was any indication. Primus wanted him to accept a destiny that he knew nothing about and no idea of how to go about it. Destiny. Was there a more frightening word?   
   
He barely started to sit up in the bed when a small drone rolled into the room.   
   
"Pharma will be with you in less than a breem, please remain in a stationary position." The drone said in a grating mechanical voice, before settling down to wait with him. The voice sounded so wrong to Sam, who was used to hearing real emotion from life-like robots.   
   
Half a breem later, the door slid open again to admit a large med-bot. He looked a lot like Ratchet, only the set of his face plates and the lack of obvious weapons gave him a completely different look. There was no way Sam could mistake the two, even without Ratchet's distinctive coloring.   
   
"Well, youngling, you nearly succeeded in offlining yourself and damaging your processors. What in the name of the Great Spark were you doing out there for so long?" The mech spoke as he ran scan after scan over Sam.   
   
"Um," Sam began. He hadn't used his voice processors in a while and the medic mech grimaced.  
   
"Well it's obvious that you should be back in the Foundry with the rest of the younglings."  
   
"I'm not a youngling, I'm a foundling," Sam sighed at himself. If he could have blushed, he would have. He sounded just like Annabelle declaring that she wasn't three, she was 'tree an a haf'. Yeah, way to go, Witwicky.  
   
"Hmm, a foundling you say, well then that's all right, go right back out onto the streets then. Hmph," Pharma declared as if it was the silliest thing he had ever heard, and it really might have been, for all Sam knew. "Well foundling, what is your designation then? Where are your creators? We have no record of you at the Foundry."  
   
Designation? His name. He opened his mouth to answer but Primus shut down his voice with a whisper. 'Official Secrets Act, Samuel. You can tell no one who you really are.'   
   
Jeez, he couldn't even tell anyone his name. He knew he was pouting, but couldn't help himself. He didn't have a name.   
   
"I don't have a designation. I onlined on the outskirts of town one lunar cycle ago and have wandered this city ever since." It was as close to the truth as he could get, while still keep Primus from shutting down his vocalizer to keep the old mech’s secrets.  
   
Pharma stopped moving at the explanation and grew so still Sam would have been afraid the mech had offlined, if not for the rapid dilations of his optics. When he spoke again, his voice was much softer and his movements slower. "Well then, have you thought about what you would like your designation to be?"   
   
"Not really," Sam shrugged, so much more graceful than it would have been if he had been a human-made robotic life form.   
   
"Would you mind then if I gave you a designation? I need something to file your medical data under, you understand." Pharma said as he turned his back to Sam and fiddled with the instruments on a shelf.   
   
Sam had the disturbing thought that he was missing something. This mech was trying too hard to act like giving him a name was no big deal. It obviously meant more to the mech than he wanted Sam to know.  
   
Sam couldn't help the curious chirruping sound he made, it was a sound he was getting used to making when something caught his attention and piqued his processors. "If you would like. Do you have a designation in mind?"   
   
"Oh well, it is very unusual that anymech but the Foundry workers or femmes get to name a youngling, I wouldn't know where to begin," The mech's pleasure was obvious to Sam. "However I might, that is to say, I believe Metatron would be a suitable name for a young mech such as yourself. You know the sparkling you rescued was nearly extinguished before you saved him. The entire city had been looking for him. He had barely even received his language protocols when he was taken from the Foundry."  
   
Sam shuddered at how close the name was to Megatron but he felt that the name had some meaning to the mech in front of him. "What does it mean, this name, Metatron?"  
   
"It means that you are more than you seem. To look at you, you are frail, barely a foundling that anymech would have mistaken for a youngling and yet you rescued the sparkling with a show of real bravery," Pharma turned back to face Sam, excitement barely contained in the fidgeting of his servos as he explained.  
   
Sam clicked a laugh, so he was more than met the eye, he had a very vivid memory of trying to woe Mikeala after giving her a ride home and stumbling over his words, saying the same exact to describe her. Then another memory of Alan Rickman in the pop culture classic movie Dogma, with giant white wings, 'Behold the Metatron, Herald of the Almighty and Voice of the One True God'. Yeah, it might take a while to get used to answering to it, but it did bring up good memories.  
   
"I like it. Thank you." Sam finally replied, getting his laughter under control long enough to answer, hoping he didn’t manage to offend the mech by laughing at his recommended name.  
   
"Of course, you are welcome." Pharma looked exceedingly pleased with himself. The med-bot nodded to himself and bounced lightly on his toes. "Now then, the sparkling Bumblebee will be here another orn at the very least, you however may go to the Foundry in a joor or two. I know you are a foundling," Pharma raised his servo to stop what he thought was a protest and continued on. "Until you are better suited to being on your own, my friend Elita has agreed to let you stay in the Foundry. Provided that you agree to a work detail of no less than five and no more than ten joors a orn, to earn your energon."   
   
Fifteen to twenty hours a week wouldn't be too taxing, Sam thought. He was more concerned with the fact that the sparkling he had saved was apparently Bumblebee. His Bumblebee had been attacked as a sparkling. Oh Primus, what would have happened if he hadn't been there?  
   
"May I see the sparkling before I go?" Sam asked, anxiety creeping unheeded into his voice.  
   
"You may. Be aware though that his vocal processors have been offlined for repair. He screamed so loud and for such a long time that they may never be as strong as they would have been." Pharma explained with a frown. "We still have no idea why they took him. Why him? Why take a sparkling at all? It makes no sense, may they be dragged down to Unicron's pit!"   
   
Oh Bee, Sam thought sadly. He hadn't known Bee had been injured as a child only that Megatron had crushed his vocal processor shortly after the launch of the All Spark away from their war and into the cosmos. His whole life; Sam's optics dimmed at the thought. No wonder he was so good at alternate forms of communication. That someone who was always in danger of loosing his voice chose to specialize in communications now made much more sense. He must have lived his whole life in fear that something would happen beyond his control and he would, once more, unable to communicate with anymech. Sam vowed that while he was here, he would dedicate his time to not only taking care of Bee, being the guardian to Bee that Bee was to him, but also finding out who had done this to his friend. And make them pay.  
*&*  
Chapter Five  
For everything you have missed, you have gained something else, and for everything you gain, you lose something else. – Ralph Waldo Emerson  
   
Elita-One was an up and coming star within the science community, Sam learned. She made it her mission to know everybody that was anybody. Within the first few decaorns, Sam was introduced as her assistant to both the current Governor, a mech named Straxus, and his wise old advisor, Alpha Trion.   
   
It took all of his self control not to completely break down the first time he spotted a young Optimus striding across the lobby of the huge building housing both the Foundry and the All Spark. Considering the last time Sam saw his Prime, his body was lying lifeless on the scorching Egyptian sands. No matter how many times Sam reminded himself that he was technically in the past, Sam would always consider Optimus his Prime.   
   
Sam couldn’t help but think that if a young Optimus was here, then a young Megatron was somewhere near, as well. A Megatron that had not yet betrayed his friend and begun a war that would see the death of nearly all life on this beautiful planet. Sam prayed, yes this time he admitted that he was praying his aft off, to Primus that he was never directly confronted with Megatron.   
   
Optimus had just been promoted to the position of Director of the Science Division. Elita spoke of him often, if Sam didn't know better he would think the femme had a crush on his fearless leader. That was something else that was concerning to Sam. He felt just as loyal to this version of Optimus as he had the very first time he was confronted with the mech two years ago, running scared with Mikeala at his side. That loyalty could prove troubling if he was here too long, as Optimus wasn't known to be a Prime yet.   
   
*&*  
His work detail was fairly boring but left him plenty of time to learn more about Cybertronian culture and beliefs than he had ever considered before. On Earth, some things you learned growing up that you never really thought much about. Holidays, religion, the difference between a religious holiday and one that was just a made up day to get out of school. Here, there wasn't really a religion as such. There was Primus. Everyone seemed to think that Primus had made the All Spark and not the other way around.   
   
Sam wanted to set the record straight and started to correct them several times only to have his vocal processer shut down. Primus had very strict rules for things he could and could not do here.   
   
Also much to Sam's horror the it seemed that the All Spark had been missing for a vast amount of time and no one really knew what it was or how it worked. No wonder there was a huge generational gap. However even now that the All Spark had been found, it didn't seem to want to give anymore Sparks.   
   
Bumblebee's spark had been the last given. Perhaps that was why he was taken. It frustrated Sam that he still didn't know who had injured his future friend so very much.   
   
The Science Division spent most of their funding and energy researching ways to re-energize the All Spark, as if it was a giant battery. Seekers were sent out to find energy to harvest and unrest began to stir. Sam watched it all silently, from his place deep within the Foundry walls.   
   
There was talk of starting a defense force, as more and more mechs were leaving the planet, chafing at the restrictions the current political system forced upon them, wanting to make their own future away from the growing unrest. Conflicts arose with other species they were discovering in the neighboring star systems, as Cybertronian’s expanded out from their part of the galaxy. But so far, nothing had been organized as a defense force per say, but Megatron was leading that particular crusade. Sam knew it was merely a matter of time before the defense force was a reality and the history Bee shared with him about the beginning of the war were set like a giant chess match, only the pawns didn’t know that they were being played.   
   
Time. That was a funny thing here on Cybertron. Time didn't seem to matter much, here. How could it, when mechs consistently lived to be millions of megavorns old? How could time be a factor when your body didn't truly age? Every couple of decaorns, Sam made a conscious effort to remember all that he left behind, and it was worrying how easily he adapted to the mech way of thinking of time.   
   
Then again, with who he was associating now, it was only the humans that he missed... the humans. When had he separated himself from his birth-race? The firewalls Primus put in place kept a very tight lid on the panic that could have easily overwhelmed him, if he thought about it too long. Nonetheless, this entire crazy adventure was happening while his body lay dead on the sand. So maybe he could suspend his disbelief for a while longer, before he started to demand answers from Primus on the point of all this mess.  
But as far as it went, Sam could appreciate the perks of a mech body verses being a squishy human. He no longer worried about getting sick, or recovering from an injury or accident, or washing clothes. Being a mech made all that petty stuff fall to the wayside, his body had such an economical form and function, and he would not age further than his adult form, no matter how long Primus kept him stuck here in the past.  As long as you had access to new parts and a willing med-bot, your body was forever young.   
   
Only once did Sam encounter mecha that looked to be ready for the scrap heap. A transport full of mecha that chose to work at a colony planet, now returning for repairs and restocking, from one of the outer systems. Planets that were so far away, a one way trip took over a megavorn. Without access to the special alloy that made up their Cybertronian protoforms, the mecha made due with what they could find or salvage. Which was, inevitably, of a much lesser quality and showed it's age and fragility much quicker than their native metals. These mechs had to make the choice to suffer this decay until they could make the trip home to Cybertron and get repaired by one of the many med-bots available to any mech who needed the aide, if they wanted to leave the planet and make their way in the universe.   
   
Sam spent most of his time, when he wasn't learning or working, looking for the silver-green and black-orange mechs that had hurt Bumblebee. He haunted the back streets and bugged Enforcer Specialist Scattorshot for any and all information. Not that the mech was a sharing and caring sort, but Sam bugging him kept the mech actively looking and that was all Sam could really ask for at this point.   
   
Time flowed and Elita-One moved on to another job, higher up the Science Division food chain, but Sam, known to all as Metatron, remained with the Foundry. He could, more often than not, be found with the small mech Bumblebee, spending whole joors doing nothing but playing with the small sparkling toys and logic puzzles that the younger seemed to love. No one doubted that Metatron was dedicated to the sparkling that he rescued.  
   
Sooner than Sam expected, it was time for Bumblebee to receive his first upgrade. He would be moved from Level One to Level Two. From sparkling to youngling. The young femme that was sparked less than a cycle before Bumblebee, designation Glyph, the closest thing Bee had to a sister, was moved up several cycles before him. Glyph did not face the same developmental problems as Bee did, due to the trauma that he endured early in his sparklinghood. The damage to Bumblebee's vocal processer, true to Pharma's prediction, had left the young mech constantly aware, and challenging, his limitations.   
   
Thankfully, since there were no new sparklings, Sam was reassigned to Level Two. Happily and without complaint, Sam followed along after Bumblebee. They might not have the kind of friendship that Sam knew they eventually would in the future that wouldn’t occur for megavorns yet, but they were friends, after a fashion. Sam watched over his friend from the edges of the room now, trying not to interfere too much or too often in Bumblebee's growth and maturing process.  
   
When Enforcer Specialist Scattershot first started avoiding him, Sam didn't think much of it. Sam knew he was annoying the mech with his continual questions. Sam just couldn't let it go, someone hurt Bumblebee and Sam wanted to know who it was, slag it! The political climate here was nearly as bad as it was back home, though the mecha here didn't have the same kind of freedom to complain. Obviously the freedom of speech and all those other wonderful things in the Bill of Rights were not invented, yet, but Sam couldn’t help thinking that these troubling times were part of the reasoning behind Optimus’ mantra.   
   
Once Sam started investigating on his own again, he came to the startling conclusion that who ever had taken Bumblebee from the Foundry must have been placed high in society. For them to be able to not only gain access to Science Division, which not every mech was allowed admittance, but also to the Foundry itself, which was even more protected.   
   
He overheard Elita-One speaking with several others about the sparkling crisis and her work in attempting to discover the secrets of the spark. Several times, she worked joors after everyone else left for the orn on data that she sent right away to Sentinel Prime. Though Sam wasn’t privileged to get the chance to meet the current Prime, it was clear that the mech was a nerd. If Sam was slightly more prone to paranoia, he might even go so far as to say there was a conspiracy surrounding Bumblebee's kidnapping.   
   
Pharma being reassigned came as a shock to Sam. He failed to realize how much he depended on the older mech until then. Messatine needed a Chief Medical Officer to train the newest mechs at the Delphi Medical Center and for Pharma it was a great opportunity and promotion. Sam was happy for him, but very sorry to see him go. He would miss their once a decaorn dinners. Pharma offered him a place on the Delphi staff as his personal assistant but Sam, but with Primus' prompting was forced to decline.  
   
An up and coming surgical mech named Ratchet was to replace Pharma as the Foundry med-bot. Sam rolled his optics and grumbled to Primus sub-vocally. The near deity wasn't very subtle. It was obvious that he wanted Sam to see how all of his friends became the people that he would eventually get to know. Heck, he'd even seen Jazz in the Foundry just before the young mech had moved from Level Three to full adult mech status when Sam first arrived. The only mech he hadn't seen yet was Ironhide, and Sam wasn’t holding his metaphorical breath on how long until he saw that mech, as well.  
   
More time passed. Sam made a point to do things other than watch Bumblebee play with his new friends from the sidelines. He traveled to Praxus and stood in awe under the floating crystals in the Helix Gardens. He took a slow moving coach from Central City to Metroplex where Alpha Trion's great castle stood, spires nearly reaching far into the sky. Then he took the Tygun Span around the tour of Iacon where Sentinel Prime made his home base, then off to Tyger Pax before the Span brought him back to Central City by way of Polyhex, where the Defense Force was just getting organized.   
   
Sam didn't even get off the tour coach in Polyhex, too afraid of running into the young Megatron or any of his underlings. Governor Straxus had finally given the go ahead to form the Defense Force when the Foundry was broken into again and the All Spark Chamber had nearly breached. It wouldn't be long, Sam knew, before Megatron declared himself High Lord Protector and things really began to heat up and factions were declared. It was a sad but inevitable time in Cybertron's past that Sam was forced to live through and could not warn anymech of what was to come, or change anything, Primus stopped him before he even thought too hard about it.  
   
The megacycle that Sam spent traveling saw very little change in the Foundry itself. There still weren't any new sparklings and only three younglings left. Neither the twins Mudflap and Skids, along with Bumblebee were moved up to foundling status while Sam was gone. The one thing he didn't imagine was being called to Ratchet's office.  
*&*  
Chapter Six  
I can’t explain myself, I’m afraid, sir, because I’m not myself, you see. – Alice in Wonderland  
   
Ratchet moved into the same office Pharma left but he completely changed everything. Where Pharma chose to have a low slung sofa and comfortable chairs for visitors to sit and relax in; Ratchet provided two plain straight backed chairs as if to encourage visitors to hurry with their business and leave quickly. The office once was Sam's escape and home away from home for many megacycles. It was startling to see the changes Ratchet brought to the space. The mech certainly was not the cantankerous old 'Bot Sam remembered, either.  
   
The Ratchet he knew worked as the senior medic for the entire Autobot faction. He was old and forced to endure too much war. His humor was dry and, more often than not, held a bitter edge to it. This Ratchet was young and loud in a energetic way. The empty office was more of a sign that he wasn't in the office often, more than a sign that he didn't want to be bothered.   
   
Sam took all of this in with whispers from Primus that he could under no circumstances give away that there was anything at all unusual about his being here. He sat in silence, waiting for the older mech to tell him why he had been called to his office.  
   
"Well then, Metatron, is it?" Ratchet finally spoke as he set the data-pad he'd been reading to the side. "That is the designation that Pharma gave you isn't it?"  
   
"Yes, sir," Sam nodded. This was going to be torture, he just knew it.  
   
"Hmm, and you still have no memory of who you were before?"  
   
"No sir."  
   
"Well you see this is a problem for some people." Ratchet sat back in his seat and pushed the intercom for his assistant, but didn't say anything too her.   
   
Sam was beginning to get a really bad feeling about this. Primus, you really should have thought this through a little more, he grumbled to himself, knowing that Primus would hear.  
   
Ratchet continued speaking. "With the recent civil unrest and attempt against the All Spark, we are conducting a more thorough search of the backgrounds of our workers here at the Foundry. Further, the Science Division as a whole is tightening security."  
   
Sam turned as the door behind him slid open to reveal a heavily armed mech. Oh shit, his spark thudded in his chest. He knew this mech.  
   
"Enforcer Specialist Ironhide," Ratchet waved the new mech into the office. "Metatron allow me to introduce our new Security Chief. Ironhide, this is the mech we were told about, Metatron. He has recently arrived back from a tour of the area, including Tyger Pax and Polyhex."  
   
Oh this was bad. This was beyond bad, it was so very, very bad.   
   
"What exactly do you remember about yourself before you woke up in that field? Why did you feel the need to take a tour just when you did? Are you working towards an agenda of your own? Why haven't you upgraded from foundling to fully adult in two vorns? That's plenty of time for a young mech to make up his mind about his upgrades, yet you haven't even applied to the Institute for Higher Programming."  
   
Ironhide threw question after question at him without giving Sam a moment to answer any of them. He couldn't do much more than cringe back and hope Primus had a plan of some sort because he really couldn't answer most of those questions. The only thing he knew about the Institute was that as a young genius Orion Pax had graduated with honor before upgrading to Optimus. Later the same mech that was even now screaming in his face would make an offhanded remark about Optimus' facial markings and dub him Prime. They wouldn't know for many megacycles that Optimus really was a descendent of the ancient Primes.   
   
Of course, Sam couldn't say any of that to Ironhide or Ratchet. Couldn't say anything at all to defend himself. His vents cycled as hot and cold shivers began wracking his body. Before he knew it he had off-lined.  
   
"Have you got your processor up your exhaust port?" Ratchet's harsh whisper was the first thing Sam heard as his systems slowly came back online.  
   
“Ratchet, this slagger is working for the Senate, I just know it. It's that pit-spawn Ratbat, I just know it. He's got his rusty little servo's in everything that has been going on,” Ironhide hissed.   
   
"I don't care! Pharma himself gave this mech his trust and you just came in and attacked him. Slag-it all, Ironhide, his processor's could have wiped when he red-lined." Ratchet vented his air ports in a huff.  
   
Sam groaned as he tried to sit up. He was laid out on the floor of Ratchet's office while the two larger mechs stood arguing at his pedes.   
   
"Oh look, the little slagger's waking up," Ironhide gruffly kicked the bottom of Sam's pede. He didn't look contrite at all. Not that Sam could blame him, really, someone had attacked the All Spark and it looked like Ironhide was in charge of investigating that attack. "Get up off your aft and answer my questions."   
   
Ratchet sighed at Ironhide’s rough treatment of the foundling.  
   
"Metatron, I understand that Pharma did all of the requisite tests at the time but since then we have developed more thorough scans. We understand that this might be uncomfortable for you but if you would consent," Ratchet stressed the word with a glare at Ironhide, "to a memory scan of where you were at the time of the attack..."  
   
"Not good enough," Ironhide interrupted. "Primus knows who this mech has been communicating with. He's been here for megacycles. Pharma, the trusting idiot has practically given him the run of the place. Maybe he did something to the All Spark and he's the reason we haven't had any new sparklings in vorns." Ironhide was getting worked up again, pacing back and forth, venting hot air and priming his, as of yet, leashed cannons.  
   
'Primus! Primus! Oh come on answer me, what the hell am I supposed to do here.'  
   
'You have nothing to hide. I will protect your memories and thoughts can not be scanned, only memories.'  
   
'Fine,' Sam huffed, 'but I don't like this. They are my friends. I feel like I'm lying to them.'  
   
'They aren't your friends, Samuel. Not yet. They are just beginning their journey to becoming the mechs you will eventually befriend.'  
   
"I consent to whatever scans you feel are necessary." Sam broke through their tirade before it became even more heated. His simple statement seemed to deflate Ironhide while Ratchet looked ever so smug at the enforcer.  
   
"Hmph," Ironhide narrowed his optics at Sam. "Very well then. Ratchet will see to it." Ironhide turned to the medic, "See that you send a copy of those scans to me as soon as they are complete. I have more to do than stand around and watch you scan."  
   
When the intimidating mech finally left the room, Sam slumped into his uncomfortable chair with a sigh.   
   
"I'm sorry about that, Metatron. This whole business is just a mess. I have a very bad feeling about where all of this will lead us. There is a change on the wind and I highly doubt it will be anything like a good change, at that."   
   
Sam submitted to the memory scans and went back to his job at the Foundry. There wasn't much to do really, oversee the education of the younglings, all three of them. He listened to the older mechs talk about a time when one vorn could produce twenty to thirty mechs and to see the race dwindle down to three mechs in two vorns, well, it was just disheartening.  
   
Again, time seemed to pass without Sam taking much notice of it. He really hoped it was just the effect of being in this Nexus type place and not how real Cybertronians experience time, because Sam didn't think nearly a hundred years should pass in what felt like only weeks to him.   
   
Before he really processed it, Megatron's Defense Force had grown so large that Polyhex couldn't keep up with housing and training them all and moved to Trypticon. The elite fighters stayed behind and became known as Decepticons. Castle Decepticon in Polyhex became known as the place to train if you were a serious fighter. Megatron became Lord Megatron, ruling from his stronghold at Darkmount in Trypticon, showing his standing in the Decepticon force.   
   
The breem Megatron came for the All Spark, Sam hid in Ratchet's office. The official word was that Megatron was taking it somewhere more secure than the mega-complex. The Foundry, Science Division and Medical-wing were all housed in the same huge building and had been for the last million megavorns. Why the complex was suddenly considered unsecure Sam could only guess at, but thought it might have something to do with Megatron's own ambitions to control everything. Less than ten cycles later Megatron's official title was High Lord Protector Megatron.  
   
During all of this, Sam kept his eye on Optimus. The mech wasn't just sitting back watching all of this happen. Oh no, that mech had his servo in nearly everything that was going on with his ex-coworker. While he couldn't actively go against Megatron without declaring an outright war, Optimus could and did secure his own following. Soon lines were drawn between those who supported Megatron and those who sided with Optimus.   
   
Megatron's symbol began cropping up as graffiti, and etched into the armor of all the defense force. Most, if not all, of the enforcers began to wear a version of the Autobot symbol. Fights began to break out in the street between the two factions. The defense force wasn't really supposed to interfere with the city enforcers, but that didn't seem to stop them. As a final point in the sparking of civil unrest, Megatron announced that his Decepticon's were taking over for the enforcers. He went before Governor Straxus and convinced Straxus that the enforcers wearing the Autobot symbol were encouraging riots and gang-like behavior among the citizens. The governor disagreed. Less that a decaorn later, Straxus’ body was found minus his spark.   
   
High Lord Megatron took over for Straxus. His first act was to 'let' Advisor Alpha Trion retire to his home in Metroplex. Megatron, in his worry for the Advisor, assigned his first lieutenant to escort the old mech home. Starscream happily complied.   
   
Sam hoped Primus took him home before things got worse, because he knew it wasn't going to get any better. Living during these troubling times was not like Sam thought it would be, and he was ready to get back to his own life, if he could.  
*&*  
Chapter Seven  
The greatest paradox of them all is to speak of "civilized warfare." - Author Unknown  
   
Sentinel Prime was always off doing other things. More important things. Or at least, that is what the masses were told when they asked about him. Sam could have told them all that there was nothing more important that what was going on; right here, right now. That the fate of not just this world but the universe hung in the balance of this gang war. But of course, he wasn't allowed to even open his mouth when the topic was brought up around him. Sometimes, he really hated Primus.  
   
It wasn't until the attack on the Foundry that Sam realize that this gang style conflict was escalating into all out warfare. Hidden as he was in the Foundry, Sam was protected from most of the rumors about what was happening out in the world, and didn’t realize from his talks with Bee on Earth how truly quick the unrest got out of control and escalated. Primus wouldn't let him leave the complex after Megatron took over as High Lord, for his own safety was whispered in his mind whenever he chafed at being kept indoors after nearly three vorns of coming and going all about the complex.   
   
Sam was sitting in the Foundry on Level Three, watching the newly upgraded Bumblebee. He was a foundling now, with his familiar bright yellow and black armor attached. Sam was proud that he not only was able to watch as his guardian grew up but that he succeeded in not interfering too much and the mech was exactly how Sam remembered him. Well maybe not quite so war wearily, but still, Bee was a bright soul. Sam missed his friend.  
   
The twins Mudflap and Skids were the only younglings left in Level Two and that was more because they just couldn't decide what upgrades to get than anything else. They were half an vorn older than Bumblebee but didn't worked nearly as hard to advance as the yellow mech. When the explosion rocked the complex and the alarms sounded, the twins were Sam's first thought.   
   
Sam took control of the Level Three foundlings, ordered them all to the shelter designated in the last megacycle as a panic room, and locked them in. Then he ran for Level Two, praying to Primus that if he wasn't too late there would be something he could do. Not that he could do much, he didn't even have a plasma blaster, let alone the cannons that he'd seen some mechs like Ironhide sporting.   
   
He skidded to a halt when he reached the corridor where Mudflap and Skids were housed. Megatron's voice echoed down the metallic hallway. He was telling someone to choose, to either join the Decepticons and give him the name of the Autobot leader or join his brother in stasis lock.   
   
Sam peeked around the corner. Sunstreaker and Sideswipe were twins upgraded to mechs around the same time as Jazz, and Sam had not seen either of the older twins in more than a vorn. Apparently the older twins had the same thought as Sam, and had rushed to the younger twins defense. He almost wished they were not here now, safe somewhere else because Sideswipe was staring at the body of his twin. Sunstreaker was torn in half, energon leaking all over the floor, while Skids and Mudflap were being restrained by other Decepticons around the room.  
   
"Give me the name of the Autobot leader and I will spare you," Megatron screamed as he shook Sideswipe.   
   
Sam nearly purged on the floor. He had never met Sideswipe’s twin but from all accounts, the mech was a psychotic bastard. He wondered if maybe this experience was the reason for his horrible attitude.   
   
"You've just killed my brother," Sideswipe said in a whisper, refusing to look Megatron in the optic, focused completely on his brother’s still frame painting the floor in a sickening swirl of mech fluids. "Why the pit would I do anything for you?"  
   
"Because he isn't quite dead yet, now is he? Wouldn't you like to get him to a med-bot, maybe if you hurry you could save his worthless scrap. Or we could just stand here and let him slowly extinguish. Watch as that twin spark slowly dims down and just as his optics begin to flutter, I'll frag you in front of him. How does that sound?" Megatron's voice was soft and his tone conversational. So very evil, this mech.  
   
Megatron’s patience for an answer was shorter than Sam thought, if he really was trying to recruit them, not just torture them for information, which is what appeared to be happening. As Sideswipe still said nothing, Megatron backhanded Mudflap to force a reaction from Sideswipe. Skids had to be held back by what Sam thought was Soundwave, but couldn't be sure of the identity of the mech.   
   
"Who is the leader of the resistance?" Megatron shouted, his razor sharp teeth inches from Sideswipe’s faceplates. "I know it isn't Sentinel Prime, so who is it? Who is organizing against me? Me, the great Megatron, I rule Central City and soon I will take Iacon itself, but first I must take care of this resistance here. You will tell me!" Megatron seemed to be loosing his cool, apparently the resistance in a city that he claimed to rule did not a happy Megatron make. Maybe Megatron needed a nap, or something.  
   
Sam slid further back in the shadows as several more Decepticon's marched in carrying tiny sparkling body's that had been formed but never given spark.   
   
"We found these, Lord Megatron. There were no others." The Decepticon laid the lifeless bodies at Megatron's pedes.  
   
"Prepare them," Megatron ordered. "We will use them to demoralize these upstart Autobot's and breed doubt within their ranks. Make it look good." Megatron turned to the mech standing above Sunstreaker's body. "Mindwipe, did you get anything?"  
   
Sam watched as something detached from Sunstreaker's head, pulling a long interface wire from a crack in the poor mech's helm. The tiny drone-like detachable appendage crawled up Mindwipe’s body and reformed itself and attached to Mindwipe as the mech's head.  
   
"No, Lord Megatron, this slag-heap knows nothing about the resistance leader. He only met with the Enforcer Specialist Ironhide to receive orders." Mindewipe informed his master.  
   
"Argh, Ironhide," Megatron growled, "that piece of scrap is really beginning to burn my manifold. I want him fragged."  
   
Sam carefully followed the Decepticon carrying the sparkling body. There was very little he could have done even if Primus had allowed him to do anything. He forced himself to watch as the sparkling body was electrocuted and scorched. Sam watched the violence in disbelief. If these losers were looking to cause chaos, they were succeeding swimmingly if they actually went through with desecrating a sparkling protoform that didn’t even have life, yet.   
   
When the 'Con was finished it looked like a spark had been ripped out of the tiny protoform. No mech or femme would be able to hold back their anger at seeing a sparkling like this. They would all assume the worst, just as Megatron had planned.  
   
Sam cursed the insane mech. There was no reason for this. No reasoning with a mad man. Only death would be able to end his reign of terror and Sam knew from experience that even death wouldn't hold him for long. He had killed Megatron once and if it was the last thing he did, Sam vowed he would see it done again and make it stick. He would help bring back this beautiful world.   
   
'I get it Primus. I do. Whatever it is you say is my destiny, if it leads to the end of this war and rebuilding Cybertron then I'll do it.'  
   
Sam didn't even notice as he off-lined.  
*&*  
Chapter Eight  
One meets his destiny often in the road he takes to avoid it.  
   
Sam blinked his eyes open and promptly fell over. "What the..., Primus!" Sam huffed.   
   
Primus shuttered his optics twice in what Sam now recognized as the mech attempting not to laugh at him.   
   
"Ug, I feel like I've been beaten. My whole body aches," groaned Sam as he stood again. Finally noticing that he was back in his human body. "Why does my body hurt Primus? Did it always feel like this to be organic?" Sam could feel a migraine coming on as he remembered and processed all that he experienced as a mech, and he could feel the firewalls dissolve and his own emotions taking a front seat in his response. Damn, but logic processors had been nice, being able to actually filter what he said before it fell out of his mouth was something he could get used to, eventually.  
   
"I believe shortly before you left that body you had put it through quite the strenuous ordeal."  
   
"Oh, yeah that. I had forgotten about that. Well not forgotten- forgotten, just you know, not thought about it, for a while." Sam scrunched his nose and looked down at his own body. He was covered in dirt and blood. Thankfully his organic body had an outer shell that didn't let the dirt and general yuck get down in his circuit's. Damn, it was going to take just as much time to get used to being back in his shell... skin as it had taken to get used to his mech body.  
   
"You are ready to accept your destiny, Samuel?" Primus asked after giving Sam a few minutes to re-adjust himself to standing up right in his body.  
   
"Well, I mean... yeah," he stretched out the word as if he wasn't quite sure. Without the logic processers, he couldn’t be sure of what he wanted, but one thing was for sure. "I want to help. I mean you haven't actually told me what that is, yet. I'll do anything humanly possible but you have to understand that, that is just what I am. And I'm just a kid, don't forget that. I'm a human seventeen year old. I don't even turn eighteen for another month." Sam started pacing as he was talking; swinging his arms and gesticulating wildly with every word and step, quickly becoming accustomed to his human form, again.   
   
"It isn't just me that thinks this is a crazy idea. Me being the ambassador for the Autobots, I mean. Other human's aren't going to accept the idea either. World leaders just aren't going to take me seriously. That was the reason college was so important, I got to get a degree if I want to be taken seriously in the human world of politics, if Optimus really does want me to speak for them." Sam couldn’t keep the slight doubt from creeping into his voice, self-esteem still at an all time low, after his Prime had died for him.  
   
"Samuel, do you know what the Matrix of Leadership is?" Primus asked, his voice gentle and patient.  
   
"Yeah, it's this key thing. What I know is that it can bring Optimus back. I mean it can right? And uh, I sort of broke it. All I did was touch it and it just poofed. Tiny little metal shavings..."   
   
"I am aware of the physical damage to the casing. Do you know 'what' the Matrix is? Not what The Fallen was going to use it for." Primus clarified, trying to keep Sam’s wavering attention on track.  
   
"No, Jetfire only said that it was the key for that machine and that it was the best chance for bringing Optimus back; reigniting his spark," Sam hesitated. "What else is it, Primus?"   
   
"You must understand, Samuel..." Primus trailed off, looking away and shuffling his pede against the ground.  
   
Sam's eyes widened as he watched Primus shift, the great mech was nervous. What ever the god-like mech was about to tell him would be one of those life changing things. What were they called? Para-something shift, yeah that. Suddenly Sam didn't know if he wanted to know or not. No, he definitely didn't want to know, but at this point he also knew he didn't have much of a choice.  
   
"Unicron and I have been fighting for a very long time. Many eons before even the first city was built on our world we were waging our battle. When I realized that we were helplessly stalemated, that the only thing we were accomplishing was the destruction of our planet, I asked the All Spark for one more spark. Alpha was created, he was the third." Primus paused as if remembering times long passed.  
   
"Alpha Trion was the third ever Cybertronian? Whoa, I mean I knew he was old but, wow." Sam muttered. He cleared his throat when it appeared Primus could stand there processing his memories for a while. "So the Matrix?"  
   
Primus cycled his vents shaking himself out of those dark times. "The Matrix is the reason there haven't been any new sparklings. Unicron and I created the Matrix and have fought over it ever since."   
   
"How... What? I don't understand, Primus. If you guys created the Matrix a billion megavorns ago but the All Spark didn't stop giving sparks until... Okay, so I don't actually know how long ago but the gap there is obviously a long time." Sam huffed and threw his hands in the air in exasperation.  
   
"The All Spark does not speak, as such. However, when my spark was first ignited, I was connected to the All Spark in a much more direct way than any being since. From that connection, a certain perspective was given, over the eons I was able to understand that the All Spark wished to move on, to explore the Universe more fully. However, because we were so dependent on it for new sparks, it bid us, Unicron and I, to attempt to create a spark on our own. And we did."   
   
"You created a spark without the help of the All Spark? So why didn't the rest of the Cybertronians use that method? The entire Science Division was working on how to do just that. Why hide it? Why force your descendants to stay dependent on the All Spark for so long?"  
   
"Imagine Megatron's evil and insanity in a billion megavorns. Then double or even triple it, that is what I speak of when I say that Unicron is darkness itself. He wanted that tiny sparkling to raise as his successor. I would not, could not allow my progeny to become like my brother. Granted, he wasn't always evil, much like Megatron wasn't sparked evil. It is the chaos that I spoke of, before. Some line of coding deep in their processors that is unpredictable and leads to madness." Primus felt his personal anguish deeply, every inch of his frame showcasing his agony.  
   
Sam could nearly feel the old mech's grief at the loss of his brother. It was written clearly in Primus’ stance and the fragile way he held himself, as if a stiff wind would shatter him to the thousand pieces his spark currently was broken into in his grief.  
   
"So what did you do with your sparkling?" Sam almost hated to ask it but felt it was too important to ignore. This was something that would save his friends, their entire world.  
   
"I constructed a holding mechanism to keep it hidden; keep it safe. I have never before spoken openly about it, only passed it on to the Primes that came after me, so that if and when the time came for the Cybertronian leaders to know about it, they would have it at hand. I never expected for the line of the Primes to fall."  
   
"Wait, your saying that the Matrix is really your sparkling?! Oh God, Primus. Oh God! I killed your sparkling," Sam panicked, if he had still been a mech he would have off-lined already. The only reason he hadn't passed out from the horror of the thought was the low amused sound coming from Primus.  
   
"Samuel, be at ease. This once, chaos has worked for us, instead of against."   
   
Primus’ chuckles calmed the rising panic Sam was feeling, after all, if the mech was laughing, Sam must have misunderstood what was meant.  
   
"Don't do that to me you big stupid lugnut! You nearly gave me a heart attack!" Sam threw himself on the ground and covered his face with his hands. "God, Primus, I don't think I could have lived with myself if I had killed a sparkling. Just give me a minute here," he groaned into his hands, trying to calm his racing heartbeat, wishing for the first time that he was still a mech so he could set his cooling fans on high to cool him. Sam was sure that this wish would be a recurring thought in the coming days, if he was able to get back home after so long as a mech the instincts were hardwired at this point.  
   
"I apologize, Samuel, I did not expect you to be so astute. The Matrix has hidden my sparkling for many eons."  
   
"Okay so, if I didn't kill Matrix when it crumbled to dust in my hands, what happened to it?" Sam asked still laying on his back staring up at the smiling mech.  
   
"At the time you touched the Matrix, you still carried the energy signature of the All Spark."  
   
"Yeah, okay. I'm following you. Go on."  
   
"You absorbed the Matrix into your body with the help of the All Spark."  
   
"Do say wah-huh? Okay I take it back I'm not following you. How and why would that happen?" Sam didn't think his heart could take the rollercoaster of emotions he was on. He really needed to get the hell off, right the hell now.  
   
"The All Spark wants us to be an independent race. In order to do that, we need to be able to reproduce on our own. The spark that you now carry, in addition to the All Spark energy, will allow you to make others of our kind. And in turn, they will also be able to make others. I believe this is why the All Spark came to your world, Samuel. Your kind reproduces themselves a thousand times a day. You will bring new life to Cybertron."  
   
"I'm human, Primus. How the hell can I hold a spark? Let alone make more!" Frustration made Sam jump up and start pacing, again, working himself up into a frenzied state once more.   
   
"I do not believe you are fully human anymore, Samuel. You could not hold a spark otherwise. I believe that the changes began the moment you thrust the All Spark up into Megatron's chestplate and extinguished his spark. Only now that you have absorbed my sparkling, are we seeing the grand plan that the All Spark must have had all along."  
   
"I can't... Primus. I have no clue how to... I mean, really, what the hell happens now? I..."   
   
"You stated that you would die for your Prime. I asked if you would live for him. You never answered, and yet, that is all I am asking you to do. In a few moments you will have to make a choice. To stay here with me or to go back and face your destiny."  
   
"Where exactly are we? This isn't really the Nexus and if I'm the Matrix, or I guess really that would have been my name right. Matrix is what you named your sparkling, wow that's kind of weird. Hey, does that make you my dad now?! Heh, that's kinda cool. Seriously, though, where are we?"  
   
Primus chuckled, it was a deep resounding sound that echoed off the nothing that surrounded them. "I am the first Cybertronian to be a father, and for my progeny to finally have a body and a voice," he nodded to himself. Sam could see the warmth in his optics. "I find I quite like that idea. As for your question. Our sparks have merged and time has next to no meaning inside our sparks. If you choose to stay, your spark will join my own deep inside Cybertron, keeping the planet alive, though it has been all but abandoned."  
   
"And if I choose to go back?"  
   
"I hope that if you go back, you will see it in you to renew, recreate our race. A Cybertron that can sustain itself. The new generation of Cybertronians will need a world free from this infernal war. You are correct in that Optimus Prime is crucial to winning the war. Without a living Prime, you might as well had over the universe to Megatron and his Decepticons."  
   
"And this whole spiel about the Matrix of Leadership being able to bring him back?"  
   
"The Matrix was handed from one leader to the next, it became a symbol that all Cybertron looked to, nearly as much as they depended on the All Spark. But the Matrix itself can not renew a spark. Only you can do that, Samuel."   
   
"Because I have this All Spark energy and because I'm the Matrix and blah blah blah. Okay. Great. What's the down side? There's always a catch right." Sam grumbled, he had learned that one the hard way dealing with the military as well as Sector Seven.   
   
"That, I am afraid, you will have to learn on your own. I can only tell you what has happened to you and what I hope that you will do for our race. I have no foreknowledge, only council." Primus shook his head, even if he had all the answers, he would have to let the young one, his young one, learn some things on his own. All things came through time. Even he, with all of his megavorns of existence, was still fallible and surprised by the things that happened in the universe.   
   
"Of course, sure, sure. Why make things easy, right? I mean, really, where would the fun be in that right. Tell the kid a bunch of things that have already happened, and that he has a destiny, but don't tell him what to do with all the crap he knows now. Yeah, that sounds just about right. Par for the course, really." Sam nodded.   
   
"So riddle me this Batman, if I didn't really destroy the Matrix and I have some of the All Spark inside me, does that mean I didn't really destroy the All Spark? This makes me like a supersized target for Megatron. Before, I was just the squishy little fleshling that he wanted to kill cause I'm an annoyance, but now I'm like a huge deal to him. Right?"  
   
"Samuel, do you plan on telling Megatron that you are indeed the Matrix or that you contain All Spark energy?" Primus lifted an optic ridge and sounded a bit amused.   
   
"Well, no, but these things rarely work out like that for me. No matter what I try to do, it always turns pear-shaped in the end, anyway, so some forewarning would be nice, you know?" Sam huffed, the edge taken out of his complaint with the application of logic. Damn, this human brain really was inferior, way to feel great about your own kind, Sam. Good job, that.  
   
"Try harder. Megatron will either seek to destroy you or use you. That must not happen. And to answer your question: No, you did not destroy the All Spark. The All Spark is more than just the cube that housed it. It is energy generated by the universe itself. Energy is merely transmuted, changed into something else or fractured. In this case, the majority of the All Spark has continued it's travels through the universe, only a very small fraction has stayed behind in you. This is not common knowledge, of course, and must not become so. The mysteries of the universe are not for the likes of us mere mortals to unravel."  
   
Sam sighed, at least he hadn't destroyed anything. He agonized for the last two years that he was the instrument of destruction for the most amazing race he had ever known. The guilt of causing genocide nearly destroyed him. Now, it seemed that not only had he not destroyed the race, he had the chance to maybe bring it back from the brink of extinction. Not that he knew how he would do that, just that apparently it was his Destiny with a capital D.  
   
Sam turned back to face Primus and give him his answer and came face to face, well, face to pede really, with six huge mech's, each baring the mark of the Primes.   
   
"We have been watching you for a long, long time. You have fought for Optimus, our last descendent with courage and with sacrifice. The virtues of a leader. A leader worthy of our secret. The Matrix of Leadership is not found, it is earned. Return now, to Optimus. Merge the Matrix with his spark. It is and always has been your destiny."   
   
*&*  
   
   
   
   
 

**Author's Note:**

> Beta'd by the lovely Gracesolo.. if it wasn't for her this would be total and utter crap!


End file.
